Chapter 3:

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Whenever I get home from school I sit at my window and say to my self "Is this the real me?"

"Am I a real person?"

"Am I dead or alive?"

The questions keep going on and on forever.

Most people say this is a 'phase.'

But this isn't a phase.

I know it's not.

Everyday I write in in this diary to keep me safe from trying to share my information to other people.

Or what people call 'socializing.'

I don't do that.

I think about trying it but nobody wants to be around me.

I guess i'm too ugly for them.

Or i'm too ugly for myself.

People should learn how to not give a shit about other people.

Or to not judge a person by their looks.

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